Enemy Number One
by nanayoung
Summary: A series of snippits based on the idea that Saitama was considered the number one most powerful villain and a God level threat for years by the entire world... and never knew.
1. Looks

**Chapter One: Looks**

Two years into his training, Saitama felt that there was something off about the people around him.

It was the way people looked at him when he went jogging by or the little glances they gave him when he went to buy groceries. He didn't really notice it all that much at first since he was too preoccupied with training and beating up the occasional monster. But after a while, it became so obvious that he could do nothing _but_ notice it.

Seriously, it was like they never saw a guy training in a track suit before. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought that everyone was afraid of him for some reason.

Though now that he thought about it... a lot of people started avoiding him on the streets. And the police were giving him shifty looks whenever he went out to run. And all of his neighbors moved out one day in the middle of the night. Along with his landlord, who he was _pretty sure_ had been running away from him when he went up to the guy to pay for his rent.

Saitama stopped running through the park and took a cautionary sniff of his track suit. Did he smell? Was that it? Did that monster he killed a few minutes ago leave some sort of stench behind?

A snap of a twig brought his attention over to a group of teenagers. From the looks of it, they were having a picnic date or something. They were staring at him with wide eyes that reminded Saitama of a deer he saw once before his dad hit it with his car. They stared at him for an uncomfortable amount of time and just when he was about to ask them what they were looking at they, as one, slowly started to back away.

They kept backing away until they were out of sight, then there was the rapid sound of running footsteps. Seconds later there was a squealing of tires before everything went silent once more. Saitama glanced over and found that the teenagers apparently dropped their picnic basket in their haste to get away from him.

"Eh... their loss." He started rifling through the baskets contents. He wasn't one to waste free food when he got it. "Ooh, peanut butter!"

* * *

 _"Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God."_

"Holy fuck that was close."

"We could have died!"

"Yeah, did you see the blood on that guy's clothes? He looked like a fucking serial killer!"

"I'm pretty sure he was a serial killer. He fit the description on the news and everything."

"Didn't the Hero Association call him a dangerous villain or something? They said he was wanted for the deaths of _two hundred people!_ "

"Thank God we managed to get out of there. Who knows what he would have done to us?"


	2. Run

**Chapter Two: Run**

There was this weird flag monster with flags for hands standing in the middle of the road and shouting about something.

Saitama wasn't really listening, too busy reciting his grocery list in his mind. He had just finished his daily training routine and had decided to get himself some ice cream to reward himself. The local place that he usually went to was going out of business, so everything was sixty percent off. And there was no way he was going to miss out on an amazing deal like that.

He had just decided on getting a tub of Rocky Road ice cream when the flag monster decided now would be a good time to attack some random passerby, i.e him. It shouted something about "flag based justice" before trying to hit him over the head with one of the flags.

Saitama punched him, idly moving out of the way from the rain of gore, and went on his way. Now he should have enough room in his freezer for a tub and a half of ice cream. Maybe if he -

Wait. Why was everyone running?

* * *

The flag monster, like all monsters, used to be human. Unlike most monsters, it managed to retain most of its humanity when it came to its form. While examined up close there would be no doubt in anyone's mind as to what exactly the monster was, at a distance it was a bit more hazy. The flags for hands could be easily mistaken for someone holding a pair of flags, and the fabric like skin could be assumed to be a fairly tight set of clothes. It's rather strange way of walking would have been a bit harder to explain, but the people of Z-City have seen much, much weirder from random weirdos before.

The fact of it was, there was no one near the thing when it came across a man in a blue track suit. Most of the passerby were as far away from the perceived weirdo as possible. As such, when the man in the blue track suit punched the monster, they had no reason to believe that they didn't just witness a brutal murder right in front of their very eyes.

And when many of them noticed the blue track suit, they all remembered the news report that broadcasted just last night. About a villain, a man in a blue track suit just like that one, wanted for the murders of hundreds of people...

Naturally, there was a bit of chaos as the people on the street ran as far away as they possible could from the murderer in their midst.

* * *

Saitama checked twice to see if there was another monster around causing havoc, a bit confused as to why everyone was running and screaming like their pants were on fire. Maybe they heard about the ice cream sale too?

If that was the case, then he better hurry up. He didn't want to lose a chance at such a great deal. Good ice cream didn't come cheap you know.


	3. Shopping

**Chapter Three: Shopping**

"Excuse me, do you know where the -"

"Ohmygodpleasedon'thurtme!"

Saitama was at the grocery store, though not the one he usually found himself at. His regular place had unfortunately been destroyed by a plastic bag monster and was still trying to rebuild. Which sucked, because that place had the _best_ deals. Sure this new place had deals too, but not as many as his usual one and they didn't hand out piles of coupons at the door.

He was in a bit of a bad mood when he approached the guy stocking candy near the register. He wanted to know where the toilet paper was since he had completely run out back at home. Thinking about the lack of toilet paper at his apartment and the destruction of his favorite place to shop must have put a terrible look on his face, 'cause the store guy freaked out the moment he looked up at Saitama.

"Uh, I just want -"

"Here take my money! Take it and go away!"

The guy was actually starting to draw attention. For some reason the customers around him were having the same look on their faces as the store guy. Saitama caught a few of them turning to run.

Did he seriously look that threatening? Or was it his smell again?

Dammit, he knew he should have put deodorant on before going out today!

"Look dude, I just -"

And suddenly everything started exploding.

The hero in training found himself launched backwards, smashing into shelves of food and almost sending him flying out of a hole in a wall and to the ground below if he hadn't caught himself in time. Pulling himself up, he brushed some of the dust off his clothes and fingered a hole on the side of his pants. Great, now he had to find _another_ track suit to train in.

"Durable against all forms of environments my ass," he muttered.

Standing in front of him was a monster with metal poles for hands. It had dark metal skin and was shouting about something or another, waving its pole hands around with every sentence. It was standing over the prone/dead bodies of the customers, occasionally smacking some of the ones who tried to crawl away.

"-track you down! I know you're here somewhere! You killed my brother and now I'm gonna -"

Saitama punched it mid rant, causing its head to cave in under the force and sending blood everywhere. A large portion of it got all over his ripped up track suit, making it even more ruined than before.

"Gross." He wiped some of the blood out of his eyes, grimacing at the stray eyeball that managed to get into his hair. "I think I swallowed some."

"Freeze!"

"Wha?" He looked up to find a good few dozen cops all pointing their guns at him. When did they get here?

"You're under arrest! Put your hands up and don;t move or else we'll all shoot!"

"Wait, you guys got it wrong. I wasn't -" Saitama look a small step forward.

One of the policemen, young and probably new to the job, reflexively pulled the trigger, shooting him right between the eyes. The bullet bounced off his skull and hit another officer right in the knee. The man went down with a scream.

This prompted the rest of the panicking officers to start shooting.

* * *

"The Blue Tracker struck yet again, blowing up a local grocery store in Z-City and causing the deaths of no less than two dozen people. Police came upon the scene but were unable to apprehend the villain when he attacked, injuring several of the officers and killing two. The Hero Organization has this to say -"

Saitama shut off the TV, barely listening to what the newslady was saying since he was too busy trying to sew the holes in his track suit together. The thing looked like Swiss Cheese what with the amount of holes on it.

Those policemen just wouldn't listen to him, no matter how much he tried to explain himself. He ended up having to run away just to keep himself from going naked.

"Man, I'm gonna have to buy a lot of track suits if this is gonna be a normal thing. Either that or get some more durable training clothes."


	4. Challenge

**Chapter Four: Challenge**

Fireman knew, the moment he laid his eyes on that blue track suit, that this was his moment.

For the longest of time, he was at the bottom of B-Class. No matter what he did, no matter how many people he beat to, he never seemed to raise his ranking. And for the stupidest of reasons too! Anyone could have mistaken that police officer for a monster in disguise. And that crossing guard. And that school teacher. And that old man who was trying to cross the street...

Okay, so he made a few mistakes here and there. So what? Everyone did, that didn't mean they had to hold it against him! He was just as strong as the top ten B-Class and should take his rightful place at the top. Hell, he should be near the top of A-Class by now, if it weren't for those assholes at the Association giving him lip all the time. Seriously, you punch one secretary and suddenly you're on thin ice and at risk of demotion.

As much as Fireman hated to admit it, he was in serious danger of losing his current rank. So for the past few days, he was looking for a strong enough monster or villain to stomp into the ground. Today was his fifth day of looking and for the most part, nothing happened. He was about to call it quits and start over tomorrow when he saw a familiar guy in a blue track suit. Fireman remembered seeing him on the news once; how he was a villain wanted for the murders of hundreds of people.

He felt himself grin as he clenched his gloved hands. Looks like it was his lucky day.

* * *

Saitama was running through the park at night.

Why? Well, he was so busy reading manga throughout the day that he completely forgot to do his daily training. He made a promise to himself that he would keep to his training program and never stray no matter what because he knew that as soon as he stopped, he would be in serious danger of losing all of his strength.

Or at least he thought so. He could probably make up for it the next day now that he thought about it.

Still, he decided to spend a few hours before midnight training before going back to bed. It was probably gonna mess up his sleeping schedule something fierce, but he'll deal with that later.

He was just about done with his run when he came across some guy in red overalls, red gloves, and a fireman's hat. He had this constipated look on his face and was standing in his way. He gestured with his hands and a second later they caught fire.

"I challenge you, villain! No longer will your dastardly deeds haunt this fair city of -"

"Dude, can you move? You're in the middle of the path."

The guy pointed at him with a hand still on fire. "I shall not let you pass, you dastardly -"

Saitama ran around him, idly holding back a yawn. He was way too tired to deal with this right now. "See ya, man."

The man shouted something behind him and suddenly he could feel something hot run across his back. The hero in training turned around to find that the back of his track suit had been completely burned away.

"What the hell? I just bought this you ass!"

The asshole laughed, making Saitama even more pissed off than before. "Take your punishment like the supposed man you are, villain. For you see -"

He gave the asshole only a moment to widen his eyes in alarm before punching him straight in the face, sending him flying.

"It is way too late to deal with this," he muttered.

* * *

Early in the morning a panicked bystander found the prone and bloody body of a hero in the park.

After being taken to the hospital, Hero Association officials questioned the man about what happened to him. He wasn't able to say much - what with the missing teeth and all - but what little he said made the Association's officials slightly worried.

The Blue Tracker was no longer sticking to civilians anymore. No, he was now going after heroes as well.

Clearly, they needed to send a team to deal with the threat before things got too out of hand.


	5. Teamwork

**Chapter Five: Teamwork**

Saitama was reminded of his salaryman days when he came across a group of people in black suits.

Man, just thinking about that time made shivers run down his back. Working in a cramped office, going into interview after interview, having to wear this bland smile all the time... The only good thing that he got out of all that was that it lead to the job he had now.

Well, it wasn't exactly a job per say. He didn't get paid for punching out monsters and the thought of asking the people he saved for money made his stomach churn like he ate some spoiled meat, but he was able to sometimes sell the monster corpses to this weird meat shop near City Y. He didn't get much but it paid for his crappy apartment at the very least.

What was he talking about again?

"Hey you! Stop or face the wrath of the Blizzard Group!"

Oh yeah. The salarymen in front of him.

"Blizzard Group? Is that the name of your company?" Saitama wasn't exactly interested in corporations and industries and all that crap so he didn't know what the hell these guys were talking about. He was pretty sure that salarymen from companies weren't supposed to harass people in the streets though.

"The hell? No, that's the name of our group!" The guy with the microphone started yelling even louder. "What, does that mean you haven't heard of us?"

The hero in training winced a bit and covered his ears. "No. I do know that you're not supposed to harass people in the streets like this though. Maybe I should go to your boss for a complaint or something."

One of the salarymen - oh wait, it was a salarywoman - scowled. "As if our boss would listen to a criminal like you! Now come quietly or else we'll be forced to... take you by force!"

"You said force twice. And I'm not a criminal."

"Shut up!"

The group started closing in on him and he realized that e was surrounded on all sides. Some of the salarymen and women were holding weapons and looked like the knew how to use them while others were cracking their knuckles.

Saitama wondered what he did to set these salarymen and women off. Was it because he quit his job a few years ago when he decided to train? Or was it because he sometimes stole office supplies when his boss wasn't looking? They did call him a criminal and he technically did steal some stuff. Had he known that salarymen and women take theft so seriously, he never would have done it. It wasn't like he really needed those supplies anyway. In fact, he probably still had those pens and staplers back home. Maybe if he gave them back these weirdos would leave him alone?

"Look there's no need to do this, guys. I have the -"

"Don't try to talk your way out of this." A guy with long hair done up in a pony tail stepped forward, a pair of brass knuckles in each hand. "You knew what you were doing when you preformed those despicable acts. Just give up before we all hurt you."

He frowned. "Dude, don't you think you're taking this a bit too seriously? All I did was -"

With a yell, they all attacked as one.

* * *

Fubiki heard the sound of combat coming from the alley and smirked. The man they were being sent after was known as a high class C and low class B criminal, the Blue Tracker. Known for causing death and mayhem where ever he went, all the while wearing a blue track suit. He started gaining a bit of the public eye right after being up a known hero, though not so much as any other villain since he wasn't considered much of a threat. Any suitably powerful A-Class or even some B and C-class would be able to take him on with no problem.

Normally she wouldn't associate her group with such small fry villains. But her group wasn't getting as much action recently and they needed something to test their new moves on. And the amount of attention they would gain from defeating him would surely make her group more noticeable in the Association. Shouldn't be too much trouble -

Fubiki walked into the mouth of the alley and was immediately hit with the thrown body of one of her subordinates. She was knocked out cold.

* * *

Saitama made sure to only knock them out instead of giving them broken bones and stuff. They were only doing their jobs after all and they did have some pretty good reasons for trying to attack him.

He'll make sure to send the office supplies he took back to his old company once he got home to his apartment. Maybe write an apology letter or something.

First thing first, he needed to complete the rest of his training for the day.


	6. Discussion

**Chapter Six: Discussion**

"The topic of discussion for today will be several newest threats that have been popping up as of late. In particular," the director gestured towards the screen, "The Blue Tracker."

"Isn't he a B-Ranked threat? A few B-Class or a single A-Class should be able to take care of him," one woman - Suga - commented.

"Usually it would be. But reports have come in that make it necessary to raise his threat level. The Blizzard Group headed by some of the highest ranked B-Class heroes were all defeated by the Blue Tracker. At the same time. Witnesses report that he came away from the situation with a ripped track suit and nothing else."

Suga frowned. "The Blizzard Group? The one headed by Tornado's younger sister?"

"The one and the same."

"That's... concerning."

"I'm sorry but, who exactly is this Blue Tracker?" Another meeting member, a man by the name of Nakada, asked. "Is he a monster of some sort?"

The director shook his head. "No, he's a human villain. Wanted for several murders as well as his actions during the City Y Massacre."

The meeting members all fell silent at that. The City Y Massacre was the name the news gave towards one of the more gruesome mass murders. Over two hundred people were killed, their insides ripped apart and splattered against the ground. Men, women, children... the person responsible for the event did not care. It was assumed for the longest time that a monster was responsible, at least until a witness came forth and testified about the event. He was in hiding during the entire event and only managed to get a glimpse of a man in a blue track suit before passing out in fear. The Hero Association did their best to track down this mysterious villain and only recently managed to get a lead.

"The public had been enraged about this case for some time now. If we don't bring this man to custody then it is possible that the Hero Association's reputation may take a hit." The director looked at his fellow colleagues, hands on the table. "As such, I am raising his rank to A-Class. Any A-Class heroes are free to do their best to take him down. Hopefully, we will be able to put this whole matter to rest. Any objections?"

No one said anything.

"Then meeting adjourned."


	7. Weirdos

**Chapter Seven: Weirdos**

* * *

Saitama was not in the best of moods. This was mainly because he was having the worst few months ever.

First off, the old man decided to close down his tailor shop and move out to another continent which sucked. The old guy gave him his newest hero suit which was cool, but it was slightly hampered by the fact that he couldn't talk to the guy anymore. He'd never admit it to the grump guy's face, but he actually enjoyed their conversations. He was gonna miss the guy.

The second worst thing was when he started to go bald.

He woke up to find chunks of hair all over his pillow. None of the cremes or remedies he found online worked and within a week he had no hair left. The fact that everyone seemed to comment on it pissed him off to no end.

The third thing was that his electricity and water were not on. Haven't been on for like a day now. He tried calling the company to see what was up, but they wouldn't answer. He even went over to the company to try to talk to someone there but they were all closed for some reason.

Why was everything closed all of a sudden? Did a monster come rampaging through the town when he wasn't looking and destroy some of their buildings or what?

The fourth was that the fights he had with monsters had started to get rather... dull. They were too easy these days. It used to be that fighting monsters was a challenge of his skill, but now all he had to do was punch them once and they'd splatter across the pavement. No one ever seemed to reach the level of skill or power needed to really give him a good fight anymore.

He started training to become the strongest in the world, but he never really expected to actually achieve that goal. And so soon too. It's only been, what? A little over two and a half years?

It was most likely nothing, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that he was getting too strong for his own good. Which was not a thought he wanted to have.

And on top of all four of those things he had to deal with, he had the fifth thing. Namely, the weirdos who were following him around.

* * *

The first weirdo had been some narrowed eyed looking dude who really seemed to like snakes. Or hate them, since all of his clothes seemed to be made of snake skin.

The guy had come out of nowhere and started waving his hands around, trying to poke him or something. Saitama was so perplexed by what was happening that it took him a good moment to realize that the guy was trying to fight him. Maybe he was being mugged or something?

He punched the guy in the face and just went on with his day. If he was a mugger, then he was a really poor one.

The second and third weirdos were some guy dressed up as Tarzan and another dressed up as a frog.

Saitama had asked them if they were going to a costume party and they acted offended and attacked him. A few slaps later and he was on his way home.

The fourth and fifth weirdos were some old man with a mustache and one guy dressed up as a gangster.

They didn't even say anything and just attacked him with the oddest weapons he had ever seen.

The rapier, Saitama had to admit was pretty cool. The high tech sling shot though? Wasn't that just a little bit ridiculous?

It was around the time that the sixth weirdo - some guy with blond hair and lightning shoes - had attacked him just as he was getting his morning newspaper that Saitama started seriously getting annoyed.

He didn't know what these people wanted with him or why they couldn't just talk to him for two goddamn seconds, but he had enough. It was getting to be a real problem.

People were actually running away from him on sight, just because they all knew those weirdos showed up whenever he did! How was he supposed to kill monsters when civilians started running towards them just to get away from him?

Ugh. He was getting a headache just thinking about it.

Well, all of that was gonna stop.

Just as soon as he figured out where these weirdos were coming from.

Hmm... maybe he could beat up one of the weirdos for information? It wasn't exactly the most heroic thing to do now that he thought about it, but he was in too cranky of a mood to care.

All he needed to do was find one of the weirdos...

"Stop where you're going villain!" Some guy with a cone on a stick started gesturing towards him. "I, A-Class Stinger, will take you on!"

Saitama grinned and cracked his knuckles. "Oh hey, a volunteer."


	8. Knight

**Chapter Eight: Knight**

* * *

Saitama scratched his head as he stood over the prone body of the weirdo with the cone stick.

The address the guy had given him was way over in City A. It'd probably take him a while to run there and the day was already starting to end. By the time he ran over there, told everyone to leave him alone, and came back, it would probably be the middle of the night. Staying up too late eventually meant he would wake up too late, which would in turn throw off his training schedule completely.

Maybe he should leave this problem for tomorrow? It wasn't like they were gonna start pounding his door in the middle of the night. Weirdos had to sleep too after all.

Saitama stood there for a moment before nodding and turning around.

Tomorrow it is.

* * *

Tomorrow came and brought all of its problems with it.

"Is this the place?"

"Yep. Witnesses saw him coming here. From the looks of the footage he lives alone."

"And the civilians?"

"There are none. Everyone moved out of this area a long time ago."

"Perfect."

There was some scuffling before he heard something pounding at his door. A moment later, there was a crash and suddenly Saitama was opening his eyes to the sight of a sword right in his face.

It took him a moment to process what he was seeing: the image of what looked to be a crossdressing man holding a sword near his left cheek. Behind him, he could also make out some guy dressed up in armor as well as his now broken door. He felt his eye twitch.

"Come on, get up. We're taking you down to the -"

* * *

Ian blinked and missed it.

One moment he was watching Okama arrest the man known as the Blue Tracker, the next he was staring up at the sky.

He blinked and tried to sit up. It felt so hard to move. He could barely breath because his armor collapsed in on itself. He felt blood trickle down the side of his head and he blindly groped for his sword, his vision threatening to be consumed by the darkness at the edges. Every movement was agony and yet he couldn't stop trying to reach for his sword. He needed it. He needed it if he was going to be able to -

He felt his fingers wrap around what felt to be a hilt. A shaky smile spread across his face as he lifted it up. Funny, it seemed lighter than normal...

Oh. It was broken.

He had a feeling that wasn't good.

A part of him was screaming, telling him to run and hide. Another part was telling him to get up and fight, that his friend was in danger. But he found himself consumed by the pressure in the back of his head, that made him want to fall down and just... sleep.

Footsteps.

Ian looked up to see a man walk towards him. Dressed in what he could only describe to be a hero's costume. It should have looked silly considering the color scheme - yellow, white and red? Really? - but somehow the man who wore it made it seem threatening.

He recognized that face. The face that had been on the bulletin boards of the Heroes Association for some time now. Even though he had shaved his head - undoubtedly to conceal his identity - he could still recognize those blank eyes. Cold eyes, as though he was looking at ants instead of humans.

"You know, I was gonna wait until the afternoon to do this, but I guess I've waited long enough." The man folded his arms. "I'm getting pretty tired of you weirdos attacking me all the time. So I'm gonna deal with it, right now."

It took Ian a moment to realize what he was talking about. When he did, it was as though a block of ice had entered his stomach.

This man - this **villain** \- was going to attack the Hero Association base.

A part of him wanted to laugh. To think that a single villain will be enough to challenge an entire base full of heroes? It was laughable.

A part of him - the part that felt as this man had destroyed him with such little effort - felt cold. Even if he were to fail, many lives would be lost. He had to do something. He had to -

He tried to get to his feet, his limbs shaking under his weight. The remains of his sword shook in his grasp as he pointed it at the villain before him. The villain looked unimpressed. "You do not have the right to use that costume, villain."

"Villain? What are you -"

"Your costume may be ridiculous and tacky -"

"Hey!"

"-but it is obviously a costume fit for a hero." Ian readied himself, sword held in two hands. "And I'll be damned if I'll allow you to stain the honor of whomever that suit belongs to!"

"...me. It belongs to me."

"Silence! This ends here! I will not allow you to continue your path of destruction! On my honor as Ia-Ian, disciple to Atomic Samurai, I will -"

The villain sighed. "You talk to much."

There was a crack of air.

A blur of red.

And Ian's world went dark.

* * *

Saitama shook his head as he dropped the weirdos off at a nearby hospital.

"Man, I must have hit that knight one too hard. He was sprouting all sorts of nonsense near the end there." Saitama glanced down at the rapidly clearing roadway, not noticing the panicking people who were doing their best to get away from him. "Now, which way was City A again?"

* * *

"Master, it is me."

"Bushidrill. Have you and my other three apprentices managed to take care of the villain that's been causing such a ruckus lately?"

"...no, Master. I was dealing with a monster that was causing some trouble in downtown City Z. When I came back, they were badly defeated."

"...I see."

"Ian was able to tell me one thing about this villain however."

"And that is?"

"He had shaved his head and was wearing a stolen hero costume. He is also heading for the Hero Association building."

"Hmm... a cocky one. Don't worry, Bushidrill. I'll make sure to take care of him."

"Of course, Master."


	9. Sweet

**Chapter Nine: Sweet**

* * *

Once again, the directors of the Heroes Association were having a meeting. This time, it was much more serious.

"You're saying that he's coming _here_?"

The secretary looked down at her papers, too nervous to meet the eyes of the people in the room. "Y-yes, sir. After defeating Atomic Samurai's two apprentices Ia-Ian and Okamaitachi, the villain known as the Blue Tracker expressed his wish to come here and deal with us personally."

An image appeared on the screen, one of a bald man wearing what seemed to be a hero costume.

"Is this the man? He looks like another one of our heroes."

The secretary shook her head. "Based on the transcripts we received from Ian's hidden recording, it looks as though the Blue Tracker shaved his head and stole a hero costume as a means of avoiding suspicion." Another image showed up beside the first one, this one of the same man only with black hair and wearing a blue tracksuit. "It isn't evident at first glance, but when you compare the two images it becomes more apparent that they are the same man."

"This is preposterous!" A heavy set man with a long beard, who was sitting at the far end of the meeting table, blustered out. "Why is so much attention being given to some A-Ranked villain? The City Y Massacre has long since fallen out of the public eye and his defeat of several A-Ranked heroes aside, he should not be that much trouble! Why not send a few more heroes after him to straighten him out?"

The rest of the directors started muttering, wondering the same thing themselves. Surely by sending in a few of the S-Class heroes, the issue would be taken care of?

The director sighed. "It is true that the event known as the City Y Massacre is no longer as infamous as it was months ago. However, several of the crimes that we believe the Blue Tracker to be responsible for _are_." The screen started showing pictures of damaged buildings, dead bodies, and trails of destruction. "Over the past few months the Blue Tracker has been sighted near several areas, each of which was promptly destroyed or the people killed upon his leaving. Monsters who have found themselves in the path of the Blue Tracker were often utterly destroyed as well - some of which were rated to be level _Dragon_ or _Demon_ in terms of threat. This villain clearly _does not_ care who or what he destroys - be it human, monster, or inanimate objects - so long as he leaves a path of destruction in his wake. What's worse, he is clearly powerful enough to get away with it. Worst case scenario, this man may be just as strong as the S-Class." This sent gasps around the room.

The director leaned forward, meeting everyone's eyes squarely. "I am not saying that this man is unstoppable. But he is a clear threat, one we need to deal with very carefully if we are to do our jobs and keep civilians safe. As such I am -"

"I believe you are giving this villain too much credit, director."

A familiar face walked into the room, one that was on dozens of billboards and showcased in many movies and shows on TV. The face of the organization and handler to many of its departments: Number 1 A-Ranked Hero Sweet Mask.

"The fact that so many of our heroes have been having trouble with," he sneered at the screen showing an image of the Blue Tracker, " _trash_ like this only highlights how low our standards have become. How pitiful."

"Sweet Mask." The director straightened up. "I did not expect you to come to this meeting."

"I usually don't. But so many of you as well as several high ranked heroes in our organization seem to be focusing their attention on this one villain. Don't you have much better uses for your time?"

The director sighed and met the hero's eyes. A hard task, considering how _cold_ they were. "This villain is someone that has managed to escape the grasp of the Association for some time and has shown to be highly destructive and powerful. Already several of our high ranked heroes have fallen to him, some of which have teamed up to try to defeat him. Monsters - some Demon, some Dragon - who have crossed his path were reduced to mere chunks of matter. He is clearly a very dangerous man, so I feel that it is only reasonable to -"

"To waste time and resources trying to capture just _one_ villain," he repeated. "The fact that so many of you have honestly taken this one man seriously only disgusts me more." Sweet Mask folded his arms and looked down on the room full of directors. "Why have you not sent one of the S-Class after him? As pitiful as they may be, they are more than capable of taking care of just a single villain."

The director made sure to word his response carefully. "They are... indisposed at the moment. Several of them are trending to matters in other cities. As such I've -"

The hero sighed, cutting the director off. "Very well. I suppose that I have some free time, so I shall take care of the problem or you. You said that he is heading for this building?"

The director relaxed, tension leaving his face as he realized the problem would be taken care of. "Yes. He should be here any mo-"

"Director!" Another secretary entered the room, a man who was clearly panicking. "The Blue Tracker has arrived at the entrance!"

Sweet Mask smirked and headed out the door. "Good. Saves me time trying to go after him. Director, make sure to send a cleaning crew down there in the next five minutes. I can't promise to make this operation a _clean_ one."

"...yes, Sweet Mask." The director may not have agreed with the hero's methods, but they were incredibly effective nonetheless. They would certainly be needed if this villains was as powerful as the director feared he was.

* * *

"Huh. So this is the place." Saitama stood before the enormous building, his cape flapping in the wind. Despite the fact that he was in a crowded and business filled city, there wasn't a person in sight. A part of him wondered just where everyone else went. Maybe there was a monster attack he wasn't aware of? "I better handle this quick. There's a sale down at the bakery today."

"So, _you're_ the one who's been causing everyone problems. I can't say I'm impressed."

"Oh?" He turned to find some guy in expensive clothes walking towards him. "Huh. You look familiar. Have we met?"

"I am Number 1 Rank A Handsomely Masked Sweet Mask."

Saitama's face was blank. "...okay."

The blue haired man stopped a few feet away from him and looked him up and down. "And to think, so many of the people we sent were defeated by you. Talent is so hard to find these days."

"Oh so your the guy who sent all those weirdos after me." Saitama narrowed his eyes. "That was not cool, dude."

"Hmph. It seems to talk like trash as well."

"Wow, rude." He cracked his knuckles. "So, are you the guy in charge?"

The guy arched an eyebrow. "Yes. I am."

"Cool. So does that mean if I pound your face in, you and your buddies will leave me alone? 'Cause I got a sale to go to and some training to do, and I don't want to spend too much time -"

Saitama dodged the hit aimed at his neck and kept talking.

"- fighting all of you weirdos. Because I seriously do not have that kind of time."

The guy yanked his hand out of his grip and flipped backwards a few times, before landing on his feel with his hand in his pocket. "Hmm. You are faster than most. This might actually be a challenge."

"Were all of those flips necessary? You could have just walked backwards," he pointed out.

The blue haired guy - dammit, he had already forgotten his name - proceeded to do his best to talk Saitama's ear off. He mostly tuned it out - just like he did with most monsters and weirdos - and started making a list of the things he was gonna get at the bakery. He was pretty sure pastries were bad for his health, so he probably wouldn't get too many of those. Then again the sale had said something about all sweets being sixty percent off, so there was no way he wasn't going to take advantage of that. The sale had also said something about a two for one deal on bread, though Saitama couldn't remember exactly. Hmm, maybe he could check the newspaper again?

"- take you on."

Oh, looks like that Handy Man Soup Man is done talking. Better get this over with.

Saitama step forward, clenched his fist, and _punched_.

* * *

Atomic Samurai could feel the vibrations all the way from where he was standing. In the distance he could faintly make out an approaching form that was hurtling towards his position. He causally dodged to the side as the projectile righted itself and skidded to a stop behind him.

"Sweet Mask. Nice to see you." He smirked. "Having a little trouble?"

The TV star growled, actually _growled_ like a wild animal, before standing up and straightening his clothes. "I have this all under control." Already the bruises were healing at a fast rate, though the man looked a bit unsteady on his feet.

"Sure you do."

"Huh. I was expecting that to knock him out. Man, I must be tired today."

A figure was walking towards them. He was dressed in a yellow hero outfit with a white belt and cape, while wearing red gloves. Everything about him seemed ordinary at first glance. Had Atomic Samurai not seen Sweet Mask get launched across the city with what looked to be a single strike, he would have assumed the man to be just another C-Class hero trying to make it big.

"So you must be the Blue Tracker." He clenched his sword, though he made sure to keep his posture relaxed and open. "My apprentices told me about you."

The man stopped and cocked his head. "... I have no idea what you're talking about, dude."

"You don't even remember them? What you did to them?"

The man folded his arms, looking uninterested. "I did a lot of things to a lot of weirdos man. It's been a strange few months."

Atomic Samurai scowled and spat the piece of straw in his mouth onto the ground. "Well then allow me to make it even _stranger_."

With that, he attacked.


	10. Director

**Chapter Ten: Director**

The Director of the Hero Association - a man known by his colleagues and superiors as Shicchi - watched with rising hysteria as two of the most powerful heroes in the organization were beaten back by a bald man wearing a stolen superhero suit.

Said bald man had the most infuriating blank look on his face all the while he was doing so, dodging strikes that were capable of toppling buildings with exaggerated ease. It would have been comical if it weren't so terrifying.

For a moment, Shicchi wondered just what he did in a past life to warrant something of this nature happening to him. Certainly it must have been something horrible. Maybe he killed a child in a past life? Blew up a building full of people? Stole from a church? Whatever it was, God must be feeling pretty satisfied to see him in the position he's in now. Looking down from a building full of defenseless civilians as some of the strongest men they had on payroll were beaten back like small children.

"Sir?" His secretary laid a trembling hand on his shoulder. He didn't turn to look at her, knowing what expression she would have on her face. "W-what do we do?"

"Send out an emergency call to any heroes in the building, as well as any nearby. Tell them to lend their help towards a particularly destructive villain and to keep him distracted. This man... if he's as strong as he appears to be, then we could all be in trouble."

Shicchi took a deep breath. "Tell all civilians in the building to evacuate out the back entrances. We cannot let anyone else fall to this villain's hands."

There was a mad scramble as all the people in the meeting room ran out of the door. The Director heard his secretary make the call and within seconds there was mass hysteria and shouts coming from outside of the room as everyone tried to escape.

"Sir?" His other secretary tentatively grasped his arm. "Are you coming with us?"

He turned around. The room was a mess of overturned chairs and fallen papers. Outside the door he could see similar chaos. Despite this, his two secretaries were still standing there, waiting for him. Not willing to leave him behind.

"No, I cannot. As the Director, I am the only one who knows a good portion of the access codes and clearance to put this building into lockdown. It might be the only way to keep that villain down there from destroying the Association headquarters. This building is the basis of our operations, contains nearly everything that keeps this organization running. If it were to fall, then there would be a good possibility that the Association as a whole would fall as well. I cannot in good conscious let that happen."

Silently, he cursed the idiocy of his predecessors. Who the hell thought it would be a good idea to put the bulk of their operations, projects, finances, and information into a _single_ _building_? If he survived this, he would make sure to revamp the entire Association so as to make sure nothing like this happened again.

"Then, I'm staying as well." His eyes widened in surprise at the female secretary's words. "It is my job to assist you in whatever way I can! And I'm not going to let the possibility of danger get in the way of that."

"Same with me." The male secretary stepped up beside her. "You can't do this all by yourself, sir. You need help that we can provide."

The Director closed his eyes. "You realize that there is a high chance that the two of you will _die_ , right?"

"Everyone dies eventually sir. And in today's times, whose to say we won't die to a monster later on down the line?" she said. "I'm much safer here, doing something to help solve the problem than I am out there waiting for something to happen."

"Besides, if that man manages to destroy the building, then the chances of everyone dying becomes much more likely." The male secretary stared his boss in the eyes. "You need us sir. We aren't going to turn our backs on you."

Shicchi smiled. If the three of them managed to survive this, then he would make sure to triple their pay. Such loyalty was hard to come by. "What are your names?"

"Chijimatsu Ei," the woman replied.

"Muto Taji," said the man.

"Well, Chijimastu and Muto, it was a pleasure to know you. Now let's get to work."

"Yes sir!"

* * *

Atomic Samurai had to blink to get the blood out of his eyes. For some reason, he had a very hard time focusing on the villain in front of him. The man seemed to double and triple himself into several other copies. He also seemed to have some control over the terrain, because the ground seemed to be shaking under his feet. How else would he have a hard time balancing?

He held his broken sword in a single hand. The bald man had broken it at one point and he was forced to fight with just the shattered blade. His other hand had been broken, shattered from the looks of it. It hung limply at his side and he could barely feel it. Were fingers supposed to bend that way? He had a feeling that they weren't.

The man was saying something, but there was a terrible ringing in his ears.

When had he fallen to the ground? Had the man messed with his balance some more? He must have had some slight ESP ability like the Tornado if he was capable of adjusting his body in such a way. He shouldn't have rushed at him with his sword if that was the case.

Where was his sword? Where was...

Against his will, he felt his eyes starting to close. He was so tired...

* * *

Saitama sweatdropped as the sword guy started muttering something about tornadoes and started rolling on the ground. The guy's broken sword lay broken and forgotten by his head. The man had a really drunken look on his face that reminded the hero of those alcoholics at a really seedy bar he used to visit when he was a salary man.

Maybe he hit the guy too hard? He looked crazy strong, especially since he carved that trench in the ground and destroyed several small buildings with a swing of his sword. Despite how silly the suit looked (though it was starting to grow on him) he didn't want his suit to get cut up like all those cars did. So he made sure to quickly punch the guy out before that happened.

In hindsight he probably should have held back a bit. People who used swords weren't exactly the sturdiest of people after all, since they mostly depended on their weapons to fight. Not that there was anything wrong with that! It just usually meant that they weren't good at taking hits like most fist fighters were.

The other guy - what was his name? Halfeningly Made Soap Man? - was doing way better though. Saitama was actually a bit impressed at how resilient the guy was; any wounds he got, he just healed back. Though he was starting to look a bit tired after reattaching his left arm again.

Saitama was kinda tempted to stretch this one out a bit - just to see if the guy had any cool tricks up his sleeve - but decided that he had already wasted enough time already. If he didn't hurry up and finish this, he wouldn't make it in time for the sale!

The guy was saying something about getting blood all over his clothes and messing up his hair but Saitama wasn't listening. A quick flick to the head and the guy was out cold.

"I hoped you learned your lesson, man. Stop sending all those weirdos after me, or else I'll beat you up even worse next time."

The guy didn't answer, too busy being unconscious.

The hero sighed and stood up. He couldn't help but feel like a bully, beating people up like this. Heroes were supposed to fight monsters and villains, and as weird as these guys were, they weren't either. Just a bunch of dorks with too much time on their hands and not enough sense.

"What was even the point of this anyway?" Saitama grumbled. "I'm no one special. Do they do this type of thing to normal people all the time?"

These weirdos really needed a hobby.

"Stop what you're doing in the name of cute boys everywhere!"

Saitama turned around and laid eyes on one of the strangest guys he had ever seen. A heavily muscled man in a prison outfit, wearing a bright pink heart sweater, and sporting a black afro was pointing a finger directly at him. At his side was some guy in a black tank top who was cracking his knuckles and what looked to be a delinquent holding a metal bat and glaring at him.

It was like something out of a sitcom he would watch; three people from widely different background all coming together for some odd, inane reason. Saitama wondered if he was being pranked or something. It would explain a lot.

"Huh. Guess old Sweet Face wasn't as hot as he though, eh? I'd thank you for giving him a beatin' if you bein' here didn't make me miss my little sister's talent show." The delinquent pointed his bat at him. "So let's make this quick, eh?"

And suddenly Saitama was in yet _another_ fight with a bunch of weirdos.

Today was not his day.


	11. Tornado

**Chapter Eleven: Tornado**

* * *

Tatsumaki - second ranked S-Class hero and known as the Terrible Tornado - grumbled as she wiped ash from her hair.

Stupid vampires and their stupid ash deaths. Why couldn't they turn into corpses like normal people?

And why was she even doing something this beneath her? Didn't the Association have a better task for her, the second most powerful being on earth? She should tear the place up from its foundations for daring to insult her like this. Ugh, once she gets her hands on that fat director she'll -

 _Ring, ring. Ring, ring._

She answered her phone, idly brushing a stray curl of hair out of her eyes as she flew home. "What do you want? I'm busy!"

"Miss Tornado, there's been a situation. A powerful villain has -"

"Can't you get someone _else_ to do it?" she interrupted. "I said I'm busy!"

"We have and they have all been met with failure. Several members of S-Class were sent and they're all having a hard time with him."

She scoffed. "Oh, please. Can't those idiots do anything right?"

"Please, Miss Tornado! We are under attack! The villain is planning on destroying the Hero Association headquarters! The other S-Class heroes are inbound, but it doesn't seem as though they're doing anything to stop him. We need you to take care of it, or else the Association may be lost!"

Down below from where she was flying, Tatumaki could hear a monster ranging and civilians screaming. It momentarily distracted her from the idiot blathering on over the phone. "What? Oh fine, I'll come in a bit. Maybe five minutes or whatever. Just wait for me."

She hung up before they could reply.

"Geez. They can't do anything without me." She shook her head and descended down towards the rampaging monsters. Stupid secretary, wasting her time when she could be doing something important. Just for that, she'll take her time. Those S-Class losers need a good workout anyway.

Who knows, maybe they'll thank her in the end.

* * *

"I don't care what the director says, I am gonna kill that green haired bitch!" Metal Bat snarled, throwing his phone aside. "Just when you need her, she decides it's time to get in a fuckin' _hissy fit_!"

He dodged to the side, bat held in both hands as Puri Prisoner got knocked backwards again. The guy was sporting a broken jaw that would make a professional boxer blush and the delinquent could have _sworn_ he saw a few more teeth go flying. At this point the guy was gonna need a new pair of dentures along with a new metal jaw.

The only reason why the guy wasn't knocked out cold yet was because the bald freak didn't seem to like touching him all that much, sporting a queasy expression every time Puri Prisoner launched himself towards him balls first. Metal Bat couldn't blame the bald fuck all that much; he wouldn't want Prisoner's naked ass near him either, especially considering the shit he gets up to when he's in prison.

Tank-Top Master managed to get a few punches in while the bald guy was distracted, falling backward when he tried to flick him in the head. The almost terrified expression on Tank-Top's face would have made Metal Bat laugh if he hadn't seen said casual flick split the heavens and seas apart like something out of a religious movie.

It made him glad the bald fuck had been facing towards the ocean when that happened, or else there might not have been much of a city left.

As it was, Metal Bat knew an impossible fight when he saw one. The only reason why the guy hadn't creamed them all at the start of the fight was because Puri Prisoner was naked and flashing himself everywhere. It threw the bald guy off his game - enough that they could survive up until this point, but not enough to actually give them an edge. And Puri looked like he was gonna pass out at any moment.

Metal Bat's bat hadn't done him a lot of good. Hell, the thing actually bent and threatened to snap when he smashed it on the bald fuck's head. It was just a useless hunk of metal at this point, but it was really all he had. And dammit his bat got him through a lot of shit over the years, so he wasn't gonna give up on it just yet.

He risked a quick check at the skies - nope, no green haired midget. She was taking her sweet fucking time alright.

The delinquent swore on his new cat that as soon as he got out of this mess he would hit her a good one. He didn't give a shit if it was possible or not, she would get her teeth knocked in.

Something shot towards him and he instinctively knocked it away with his bat. The unconscious and thoroughly beaten form of Puri Prisoner sailed high in the air, twirled for a bit, before landing on the ground a few feet away.

Shit.

"Tank-Top, fall back!" he barked out. The guy was at his side in seconds, looked completely spent with blood running down his chest and face. Metal Bat knew he wasn't looking so good himself if the blood running into his eyes was any indication.

"Man, am I gonna have to beat you guys too? You know I have things to do right?" The bald fuck folded him arms, looking irritated. He didn't have a scratch on him. Hell, his stupid stolen suit wasn't even torn up. "Besides, I already beat your leader or whatever. So can you go home and let me do my thing?"

"What, you mean _Mask_? He ain't our leader," Metal Bat snarled. "The fuck did you get that from?"

"Seriously?" The bald fuck looked disappointed. "Ah man, I wasted my time for nothing. Well then who is?"

Then Tank-Top, the dumb fuck, actually started to answer. He pointed towards the Association's headquarters. "Well he's - "

Metal Bat slapped his hand away. "Put your fuckin' hand down. What is _wrong_ with you?"

"Sorry, it was instinct! Besides, its not like he already doesn't know!"

"If he knew, he wouldn't be _askin'_ us you -"

"Alright, see ya."

Metal Bat looked over to see the bald fuck start walking towards the Association headquarters, like he was going for a causal walk or something. The guy's back was to them though, which allowed him to -

The bald fuck blocked his swing like it wasn't even a challenge. He didn't even have the grace to look around and face him before punching him straight in the face.

Metal Bat saw stars, his vision swimming and pulsing like a bad trip. For a single, terrifying moment, he couldn't feel anything below his neck. But then the aches and pains all came rushing back and he groaned. He felt himself get lifted to his feet, heard Tank-Top say something though he couldn't make out what. Slowly, painfully, his hearing and sight came back.

"...gonna do? We can't stop him!"

"Sure we can," Metal Bat slurred as he took a single step. "Ah fuck, that hurt."

"We need to get you to a hospital -"

"We ain't got time for that. We need to make sure that bald fuck doesn't make his way to Headquarters." He straightened up, feeling a familiar rush of power flow through him. He wasn't sure if his Fighting Spirit was gonna be enough this time around, but he might as well try. "Hand me my bat."

Tank Top held out a broken and bent handle. "This was all that was left."

"Ugh. Fuckin' perfect." He took it anyway; wasn't like he had room to be picky.

"How the hell are we gonna stop him?" Tank-Top asked. "He threw us around like we were _nothing_."

"Look we just gotta -" An idea popped into Metal Bat's head. It was a stupid idea, one he wanted to dismiss almost as soon as it entered his mind. But it wasn't like he had any options. "Okay. Okay, I have an idea."

"What is it?"

He sighed. "You ain't gonna like it, but it's all we have. This is what we gotta do -"

* * *

"Hey! Bald freak!"

Saitama whipped around before he realized what he was doing. "I'm not bald you -" He stopped, mouth open and at a loss for words.

Those two weirdos were standing there, completely buck naked with their junk flowing in the breeze.

"What the hell? Put some clothes on, man!" The hero covered his eyes, mentally asking himself what he did to deserve this. "No one needs to see that!"

He felt something hit his side and he twisted around to dodge it and punch forward - only to come eye to eye with some guy's junk. "Oh my god -"

Saitama was sent flying backward for a bit before landing on his feet, completely unharmed like always. "Dude! Put some clothes on!"

The two weirdos completely ignored him and continued to attack. The big dude in particular seemed to really want to tackle him to the ground, much like that other guy with the afro, while the smaller guy seemed content with trying to hit him with the remains of his bat. Saitama noted that the smaller weirdo seemed a bit stronger than normal, though nothing major.

As it was though, Saitama was doing his absolute best not to touch them in the slightest. It should have been easy, if not for the fact that the two perverted weirdos seemed to go out of their way to thrust their junk in his face. It made it way more inconvenient than it should have been, and against his will the fight dragged on a lot longer than it should have.

The hero seriously considered just dropping everything and going home. He had probably already missed the sale, he was exposed to enough male genitals to last him a lifetime, and he needed a new door for his apartment. He just wanted to be _done_ with all this.

So after dodging out of the way of another handle strike, he grabbed the smaller weirdo by the face and threw him at the larger weirdo. He grimaced a bit as their junk flashed in his vision again, the two of them smacking into each other and sent flying into a far off building. Thankfully for his piece of mind, they did not get back up.

"Perverts. And I'm not into dudes!" he called out. He ran his hand through his nonexistent hair, before turning around towards the direction of his apartment. "Screw this. I'll leave all this for tomorr-"

And that's when he was hit by fifty missiles all at the same time.

Because life hated him and wanted him to suffer.


	12. Boom

**Chapter Twelve: Boom**

* * *

The Director wasn't sure what the _fuck_ Bofoy was doing.

"Is he insane? There are civilians down there!" He watched as countless amount of missiles and explosives were dropped down from the sky, coating the ground in a lake of fie and debris. "My God, he's really not holding back..."

"Sir, Bofoy _did_ sent out an emergency alert and told the civilians to evacuate," Chijimatsu replied. "Right around the time the villain... split the heavens." She shivered when she said that, something that the Director could not blame her for. The image that the Association satellites sent him when that punch resonated throughout the building shook him to the core: where once there were clouds covering the entirely of Earth's surface, there was now a large, almost continent sized gap in the sky that stretched across the circumference of the planet. A single flick of the finger caused that.

The Director did not want to think about what might have happened had the villain been aiming for the Earth instead of the clouds.

Muto shuttered, his hands shaking the tiniest bit as he tapped on the screen in his hands. "It should be against the law to be that strong."

 _If only it was._ "Still, he didn't give them nearly enough time. There is a high possibility that people are getting caught in the crossfire. No, wait, it's almost a certainty at this point, considering the mount of firepower he's been using. Have you sent word to his communication systems?"

His female secretary was frantically tapping on a screen. "Yes sir, but it seems he is ignoring them. I haven't been getting a response."

"Perfect. Of course Bofoy chooses _now_ of all times to go rogue." He ran his hands though his hair. "What about Tornado? Is she coming yet?"

Mato shook his head. "No sir. She stated that she was occupied with something important. Said it needed all her attention."

The Director wanted to tear his hair out. "What could be more important than a man who can _split the sky apart_ knocking on our Goddamn doorstep?"

"She didn't say, sir."

"Of _course_ she didn't," he sarcastically replied. "Chijimatsu, how are you doing on transferring all our records and information?"

"It's going to take a while, sir." She frowned down at the screen, numbers and files flickering faster than most could track. "Several hours at the least. Do you want me to try and get in contact with more heroes?"

An explosion came from outside the building, strong enough the shake the ground they were standing on. The Director watched as the high impact glass - glass strong enough to take on rapid fire missiles and not gain so much as a scratch - shattered into a million pieces. The three Association members ducked down underneath their desks, doing their absolute best to avoid the wave of glass. The Director looked up from where he was covering his head and was somewhat surprised to note that his two secretaries were still tapping away at the screens.

 _Definitely deserve a raise. Maybe two if we get out of this in one piece._

"Yes. Contact as many heroes as you possibly can. We need all the help we can get if we want to avoid this disaster."

* * *

Saitama brushed the dust from his cape.

"God, this is gonna take _so much_ soap to wash. And I just cleaned it last night too." He wiped the soot from his eyes and stared up at the bulky robot that was hovering overhead. Surrounding the robot were hundreds if not thousands of robots, each carrying their own missiles and ammunition. As he watched, a good portion of the robots were dropping spent shells and reloading. "I wonder how much that stuff cost. Are there coupons or sales for this those types of things?"

Almost as though he had heard him, the missiles rained down from above once more.

"Definitely should have stayed in bed, today."

* * *

The hero known as Metal Knight - but commonly called Doctor Bofoy - stared at the footage his remote drone was giving him.

The Blue Tracker. Facial analysis shows a 90% match with a man known only as Saitama, a former businessman who went missing some three years ago. No family members, no friends. Lives in isolation in the broken down part of City Z. Went bald at some point, or shaved his head. More likely the latter, as his records show the man is in his mid twenties and that his family does not have a history of baldness in their family tree.

At some point in that three years period, this Saitama person got _strong_. Incredibly so. It was possible that it was a genetic enhancement of some sort, though he wasn't aware of any scientists who had the skill or resources to create one such as him. The House of Evolution were known to use animals more often than not, and most other scientist groups put heavy emphasis on technology and mechanics rather than biological enhancements.

Maybe the man did this to himself? A hidden genius maybe? His previous school records only show sub-par intelligence, though it was entirely possible that he was faking for some reason.

Perhaps he had a superhuman ability of some sort? Maybe he was a latent ESPer with a heavy emphasis on physical manipulations? Though in his experience most ESPers had an "aura" of sorts that was evident every time they used their powers. Perhaps he was skilled enough to hide it...

Of course, there was the possibility that the man trained to become strong, but it was a laughable theory. No one could become that strong, that quickly, all by their own with no outside efforts. It simply was not possible.

Bofoy was brought out of his thoughts when frantic bleeping starting coming from the monitor. He watched as the drone - along with the thousands of tiny drones that came along with it - were brutally destroyed in a single punch. Said punch emitted a shockwave strong enough to blow away the clouds, as well as once again split the sea.

A quickly typed out report from another monitor showed that the shockwave somehow managed to push past Earth's gravity and hit one of his remote controlled satellites. Said satellite was sent careening towards a small island off the coast of Pangaea at Mach speeds, before promptly landing and causing the island to sink through the sheer force of the crash.

All that destruction from a single punch. And if his hunch was right, then this Saitama man was still holding back somewhat. After all, it only took a single flick of the finger to split the sky.

It intrigued the doctor, and for a moment he considered coming in contact with the man so that they could possibly negotiate a trade of some sort. But Bofoy checked himself; it wouldn't do for a "hero" to associate with villainous mass murderers. The Association would sure to cut his funding.

Clearly there was another power at work here. Something was making this man strong, strong enough that mere shockwaves were enough to defy the laws of physics and cause untold amounts of destruction. It was his duty, not only as a "hero" but as a scientist, to find out what secrets that man was holding. No matter what it took.

The scientist studied the static monitor for a moment, before sending out another drone to intercept the one known as Saitama. Maybe if he was subtle, he could get a blood sample...

* * *

All across the continent news about the latest catastrophe was spreading.

Newscasters talked about the most recent villain going up against S-Class heroes. People gawked up at the cloudless sky and shivered as the sounds of combat that they could hear from miles away. Panic and fear were rampant across the cities as people from City A and even from City B did their utmost best to get out of the way of the combat zone.

And all the while, heroes were called to attention with a simple message sent to every possible communication device. From phones, to old fashioned beepers, to emails - this message was repeated to all.

 _All heroes report to the Association HQ immediately for combat. Possible God-level threat inbound._


	13. Despair

**Chapter Thirteen: Despair**

* * *

Saitama was slipping.

It was a bit embarrassing to be honest. Usually he had _way_ better control over his punches. He was a hero after all, and what kind of hero couldn't control his own strength?

A shitty hero, that's what.

Jeez, just looking up at the sky made him wince. None of the weirdos here deserved something like _that_. They were strong for weirdos, but not that strong. He could have actually hurt somebody if that connected.

These freaks must have been getting to him more than he thought.

...maybe he should put this off for tomorrow again. It was already late judging by the position of the sun – damn he really needed to buy a watch – and he had already beaten up a lot of their main guys. And it wasn't like he wanted to be stuck here, beating up a bunch of freaks while they yammered on for a million years about random crap.

He was hungry, tired, and even a bit irritated since the sale had no doubt started by this point. People were probably taking all of the pastries, taking advantage of all the good deals, and getting the good stuff while he was standing here waist deep in broken robot parts.

Seriously, why was he even here? It wasn't like these guys were villains or monsters. Yeah that one blue haired guy could heal really weird – what was his name again? – and that sword guy really seemed to like slicing buildings apart, but they actually went out of their way to avoid any random people that happened to run past. They even helped a few and gave them directions to a shelter. Though Saitama wasn't exactly sure why – it wasn't like there was an earthquake or a monster or anything.

Though now that Saitama thought about it, there actually weren't that many civilians around. Not even before the explosion happy robot guy started throwing missiles around like they were free coupons. A bit strange, considering how crowded and busy A City was.

Well there _was_ the occasional few he found while he was dodging missiles, but he managed to get them to safety easily enough. The screaming and the pointing at his bald head was a bit distracting, but nothing he hadn't gotten used to over the past few months.

Dammit, maybe he should have gotten a wig like that one weirdo with the mustache said. What was it with people and him being bald these days?

Saitama was brought out of his thoughts by the distinct sound of a building falling just a few hundred yards away. It wasn't that weird robot dude this time – the guy had stopped sending waves of machines after him once he shattered him into pieces – and instead was a girl in skintight clothing and her pet dog.

Cupping his hands over his mouth he called out, "Hey! I think you and your dog should get out of here! A bunch of –"

He blocked the sudden blade to this throat with his left hand. As well as the sudden kick to his face and the claws coming for his legs.

Saitama scowled. "What the hell, lady? Was that really necessary? And control your damn dog!"

The voice that came from the lady's mouth was surprisingly deep. "You have some nerve to insult me, villain. You may have defeated by colleagues with your superior speed, but I assure you that you are not the fastest man around. For I, Flashy Flash, shall take you –"

"Nope."

A quick punch to the temple and the lady – a guy now that he looked closer – was out like a light.

The girly guy's pet dog – which he now realized was just some blank faced guy in a dog costume because why not – lunged at him.

"Nope. Nu-uh, not happening doggy guy."

The dog weirdo was pretty durable, but not durable enough to take a quick punch to the face.

Saitama felt a bit bad when he heard the furry weirdo whimper like a puppy that had just been kicked, but not bad enough to stick around and wait for him to get up.

Because after thinking about it for a minute, he decided he was going to deal with this weirdo mess today while he still could. Knowing his luck, if he waited tomorrow there would be a whole legion of weirdos standing outside his door.

 _Fuck_ he forgot, his door was broken. He really needed to get that fixed. Did he even have enough money for it?

Wait...

His door was broken. Did that mean... anyone could walk into his apartment and steal his stuff?! His mangas, his TV, his half priced jacket that he found in a bin at the grocery store – it was all ripe for some thief's taking!

All of his _money_ was there!

Dammit, he knew he should have put it in the bank while he had the chance! It just kept slipping his mind...

Saitama groaned and put his head in his hands. "I think I've just made a horrible mistake..."

 _Could things possibly get more messed up?_

As though the universe had been reading his mind at that exact moment, he heard a voice shout from behind him.

"You thought right, monster!"

He blinked and slowly turned around, gaining a sinking feeling in his stomach when he came face to face with a small army of weirdos standing in front of him. He resisted the urge to groan again, though only just barely.

Don't these guys have jobs or something? Why the hell were all these people willing to waste their time in silly outfits when they could be doing... something. _Anything_ other than trying to fight him for God knows what reason.

There had to be at least a few hundred of them, all staring him down with angry looks on their faces. He even recognized a few of them and – hey, weren't those guys salarymen from before? He recognized that girl with the megaphone and all of her suit wearing friends or colleagues or whatever.

Saitama tuned out the all too familiar rant, mind focused on something far more important.

 _What was their company name again? Something starting with a B..._

" – nerve to think that you can stand up to our combined might! For we are –"

"Look, can we just cut this out already? It's actually getting ridiculous at this point."

The woman spluttered over the megaphone in outrage while the army of weirdos started angrily shouting at him, their voices merging together to form one huge multilayered blob of noise.

He was starting to feel a headache coming on. Turning around and walking away was suddenly starting to sound very appealing.

Saitama took a step forward, arms raised in a gesture of surrender. "Could you all just –"

One of the weirdos – some guy in a smile mask – gasped loudly and pointed at him. "He's about to attack!"

"GET HIM!" the woman screamed into the megaphone, fist raised in the air.

As one the army of weirdos roared and charged.

"Goddammit!"

As though the very universe itself was taunting him, Saitama heard the distinct sound of more missiles being launched his way.

* * *

It was like a car accident. No matter how horrifying and devastating it was, The Director just couldn't look away.

Heroes of all shapes and sizes, of all classes and variants of expertise, were being tossed away like irritating flies. Their attacks, no matter how strong or earth shattering, might as well have been puffs of wind for all the damage they did. What little left of the city was shattered, what few heroes remained in the aftermath were thrown aside, and within minutes of the heroes gathering to battle this threat, they were completely and utterly defeated.

That man – that _monster –_ had taken nearly everything the Heroes Association had to offer.

Everything... and found them wanting.

He could see him – see _it_ making its way towards the building. Behind him was a mountain of bodies – corpses he knew. Hundreds of the most powerful people in mankind, all killed mercilessly. On _his_ orders.

And God damn it all, Bofoy was _still_ shooting missiles everywhere. The Director wouldn't be surprised if a good portion of the civilian casualties were from him instead of the monster in human form making its way to the building.

His mouth was dry, his hands were shaking, and yet the Director's voice was oddly calm when he spoke. "Who else do we have left?"

There was the sound of frantic tapping. Then Chijimatsu spoke. "... there are a few C-Class we have on retainer. A few A-class didn't make it to the area in time and should be here in a few minutes. Some of the remaining B-Class are helping with further evacuation..."

"And what of the S-Class? Where the _fuck_ are they?!"

In any other circumstance he would apologize for such harsh language. But the Director felt as though the situation warranted it.

"I sent out a distress signal to every electronic they could have on them," Muto said. "Based on the tracker devices implanted on their phones, they are making their way to this location as we spea -"

The secretary was cut off, his face paling as a sound echoed around the suddenly quiet meeting room. The sound of someone – or something – politely knocking on a door.

 _It's_ voice came to them from behind the flimsy metal, full of contempt and hidden cruelty. It's tone spoke of dark horrors, of evils unimagined and horrible acts just waiting to be performed.

"Hey, weirdo boss? Might opening up the door so we can talk? There's a sale going on right now, and I don't want to miss out on all the good deals!"

* * *

 **I'm back, bitches!**


	14. Conversation

**Chapter Fourteen: Conversation**

* * *

For a good few seconds, no one moved.

They were paralyzed, struck dumb by the fear that coursed through their veins. The Director could feel Muto trembling beside him, could hear Chihimatsu's harsh breathing. A part of him wanted to turn and tell them that it was okay, that they were going to make it through this. But a bigger, more rational part of himself was screaming. Screaming that as soon as the monster in human form opened up those doors, it would all be over.

The S-Class would not be able to make it in time. The S-Class would not be able to do _anything_ to stop it.

 _They were going to die here._

Then Chijimatsu spoke. "W-who is it?"

The Director would have laughed if he wasn't so sure he was going so soil himself.

The voice that came through the door was bored, if a bit irritated. Like it was talking to waiter in a restaurant who had forgotten an important item on its meal. "Saitama. The guy you all keep attacking. You owe me a new door by the way."

As if to enforce this statement, the monster in human form promptly broke the steel door off of its hinges and strolled into the meeting room.

"I'd take this one, but I'm not sure if my floors can handle something this heavy."

The Director wasn't sure what he expected upon seeing the thing, but it wasn't something so... average. Sure he had seen the photos and the videos, but he still expected something a bit _more_.

The thing before him – the being capable of destroying everything this organization had worked for – looked average. Unremarkable even. Its only outstanding feature was its shiny bald head and even then it just added to its ordinary looking face. On top of that the thing's silly looking stolen costume – were those _pajamas_? – wasn't menacing in the slightest.

All in all, it looked nothing like an unstoppable force of nature. It just looked... like a man. A normal man, no different from someone walking down the street.

It unnerved him. In his experience powerful beings were distinct. Something about them _stood out_ , made them seem different from everyone else. Even if it was something as simple as a different hairstyle or a crazy costume, they still stood out in some way. As though the universe itself was highlighting their importance to the world, giving them an aura that no normal human being had.

But this thing, even in its stolen suit, looked and felt completely ordinary –

 _Danger._

The phrase was screamed into his mind as the thing's eyes met his. Suddenly the Director, a man in charge of the world's most powerful heroes, felt unbearably small as he felt those blank eyes boring into his.

It was like looking into an unending void, so massive and all consuming that he felt like a measly speck of dust when compared to it. Powerless, and so fundamentally unimportant.

 _No,_ he thought. _There is nothing ordinary about this thing._

The Director held back a shiver as the thing finally looked away from him. "So, which one of you is the boss here?"

"I am!"

"I-I am."

His secretaries spoke out before he could say a word. His mouth opened and he wanted to scream at them to not be brave, to not throw their lives away like this – but to his shame, no words came from his mouth.

The thing arched an eyebrow and folded his arms. The creak of his leather gloves seemed to echo around the quiet meeting room, reminding them all just what this thing was capable of. And what it was willing to do.

"So the two of you are _both_ in charge?"

Muto and Chijimatsu looked at each other before turning to face the thing and nodding as one. The Director felt a small surge of pride at how they met the thing's empty gaze without flinching.

 _Forget a raise. I'll make them CEOs after this._

The thing glanced over at him again and this time the Director could not stop himself from visibly shuddering and turning away. It took all his strength to keep himself from throwing up from the stress.

"Right. Well, here's the thing –"

* * *

" – I want you guys and your little band of weirdos to leave me alone. And fix my door," Saitama added as an afterthought. "Doors don't come cheap you know."

The two weirdo bosses looked extremely confused. And scared, though Saitama wasn't sure why. It wasn't like he was gonna punch them or anything.

Not yet anyway.

It was the woman boss who answered. She was blinking a lot and for some reason seemed to be having a hard time looking him in the eyes. "And?"

"And what?"

She took another deep breath, her hands shaking. Beside her, the man boss took her hand. "W-what else do you want from us... Saitama."

He thought about it for a moment before shrugging. "Nothing."

The two bosses as well as the fat guy in the corner didn't seem to expect that. "Nothing?!"

"Yeah, nothing. Just leave me alone and fix my door."

The male boss was the one who spoke up this time. "That's... really all you want?"

Saitama sighed. " _Yes_. Seriously, can we hurry this up? I have something important to do and I don't wanna waste my time bashing people's skulls in."

"What do you have to do?"

Immediately after saying that, the woman paled and started shaking even harder. Maybe there was a draft in here?

Saitama's eyes trailed over to the broken windows. Yeah, that might be the reason why.

They should really get that fixed at some point. He knew what it was like to sleep with broken windows and it always sucked. Especially when monsters tried to crawl through and eat him while he was sleeping. And that wasn't going into how expensive it was to replace one.

...did he break a window when he launched that knight weirdo through his house? Now that he thought about it, he could have sown he heard the sound of breaking glass when he threw him...

Dammit, he didn't have the money to pay for a new window! And he couldn't ask these guys to pay for it since he was the one to break it. Granted, the knight was sent by these guys so maybe it was partially their fault?

Maybe he could ask them to pay for half of the window cost...

"I-I-I apologize for my partner's question." Saitama blinked and realized that the man boss was now bowing to him, his forehead pressed to the floor. After a second's hesitation the other two followed suit, shaking all the while. "She meant no harm – "

"Huh? Oh, it's fine. I don't care." He waved a dismissive hand. "So, are you gonna leave me alone and pay for my door? Because I don't have all day."

There was a pause before the man said, "Y-Yes. We will... comply to your demands. We will no longer send our operatives after you a-and we will fix your residence."

Huh. He was expecting more resistance than that. He guessed the bosses were way more reasonable then their weirdo operatives or whatever. "Cool. Make sure you fix it before I get back though. And don't steal any of my stuff while I'm gone."

"O-of course."

"Alright. See ya later."

And with that, Saitama turned around and walked out of the building.

Or at least he would have had he not caught the bullet aimed directly for his head. Blinking, he turned around only to catch another bullet and another and – wait, was that another missile –

 ** _BOOM._**

Saitama sighed as he let himself get flung through the several of the buildings rooms before smashing through a wall and getting flung outside. He felt himself smash into the hard pavement, no down cracking the sidewalk beyond repair.

He should have known it wasn't going to be that easy.

Standing up he brushed the dust and stray rocks off of his suit, silently grumbling about how dirty it was. The thing was so covered in soot that it was practically gray at this point.

"So _you're_ the guy everyone's been freaking out about, huh."

He looked up and came face to face with what looked to be a cyclops robot, some guy with really pale skin holding an ax and a gun, a black man in a speedo, a robot dog fox thing, an _unbelievably_ fat guy, an old man, and a floating green child.

The floating green child scoffed. "Hmph. He doesn't look so tough. You S-Classes must be getting weaker by the day!"

"Careful, Tornado," the old man said. "This man has proven himself to be a very – wait, where is he going?"

Saitama had turned around to walk away the second the green child had started talking, rubbing his temples to get rid of the rapidly forming headache. He didn't have the time or patience for something like this, not when there were sixty percent off pastries to be bought.

"Hey! Get back here! Do you think you can just –"

"Oi, kid! Your bosses or whatever just told me that you should call it off! You can go ask them in there," he said, gesturing towards the building. "I have somewhere to be. Bye."

Saitama had only taken a single step when he felt something ping across his head. Confused and getting way more irritated by the second, he turned around to see the super pale guy pointing a smoking gun at him. The green child looked like she was vibrating in anger, while the rest of the weirdos looked like they were getting ready to fight – expect for the fat guy, who was too busy pigging out on burgers.

The pale guy's expression didn't shift in the slightest, but Saitama was getting the feeling that he was glaring at him. "If you think we're going to let you go after what you've done, then you have another thing coming."

"Indeed." The old man glared at him. "You started this, boy. And now we're going to finish it."

Alright. _Now_ he was pissed.

" _I_ started it? Old man, you weirdos were the ones who –"

He was cut off from his extremely justified rant by the green child. " _Why_ are you wasting your time talking to him, Bang? Let's just finish him off so that we can all go home!" The green child floated over to him and suddenly everything around him was engulfed in a green glow. "This fight shouldn't take more than five minutes."

Saitama found himself glaring at the sassy child and the band of freaks in front of him. What little patience he had was pretty much gone. Now, he just wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.

Flexing his fingers, he said, "No. No it shouldn't."


	15. Justice

**Chapter Fifteen: Justice**

* * *

Head injuries were the bane of psychics everywhere. All ESP powers originated from the mind after all, and when the brain was damaged in some way things tended to go a bit off kilter. It was something Tatsumaki knew intimately after years of hard work and death defying battles, of having to fight even after dealing with a splitting headache moments prior.

Villains and monsters had a tendency to aim for her head when they realized how powerful she was. How _out of their league_ they were. And she, the Tornado of Terror, refused to fall to some second rate monster or villain just because of a simple head injury. So before every battle she always made sure to layer the best of her protections around her head. After all, only an idiot would leave such a weak point exposed.

She, the second strongest being in the entire world, could have successfully taken a nuclear strike to her head without flinching. Hell, it wouldn't have even ruffled the hair on her head.

Which is why she didn't even bother dodging when the bald idiot threw a punch at her face. That and it was going a bit too fast for her to properly dodge – though that was probably because of the lack of sleep she's been having lately. Obviously! All the time she spent staying up late doing the Association's work for them really must have tired her out because she could barely see the punch coming at all.

She only had a bare few seconds to realize what was happening, but that didn't matter. The bald idiot would only end up breaking his hand off of her –

* * *

Silver Fang ducked out of the way as the Tornado of Terror's body went flying back, slamming into a building and causing it to topple over her. She did not get up.

He only had a fraction of a second to realize what had happened before a red gloved fist filled his vision.

Then all he could see was his own death, coming straight towards him. And he was completely helpless to stop it.

In what seemed like his final moments he found himself thinking back to the past, to the long life he had lived. To the student he had failed, and the empty dojo he so often found himself coming back to. To his family, his beloved brother, and all the wonderful students he met along the way.

He had so many regrets, so many things he wished he had done differently. And yet at the same time, as his eyes closed and he accepted the death that was coming for him, he smiled.

 _A life well spent._

* * *

Bullets were not gonna cut it this time.

Zombieman reattached what little remained of his arm and grimaced. It was gonna take a while to grow it back. Wasn't often that his limbs got vaporized, and even less often by a simple punch.

He eyed the ax in his hand and threw it at the bald villain. It bounced off his shiny head with absolutely no impact.

Then suddenly all he could see was red as his body was splattered across the pavement.

He would have sighed if he currently had any lungs. It was gonna take a while to get himself back together.

And by the time he did... it might already be too late for the others.

* * *

The one known as Drive Knight clutched the shattered remains of his prized weapon.

It has taken him years to develop it, to hone it perfection. Years of blood, sweat, and tears. All rendered completely worthless with a simple strike.

He was so absorbed by the destruction of his art that he barely felt the final blow that rendered his vision completely dark.

* * *

Superalloy Darkshine always knew baldness would be the death of him.

But he never would have thought that it would have been someone else's baldness. To think there were two men out there who trained so hard as to render themselves completely bald! In any other circumstance Superalloy would have loved to trade training tips.

It was such a shame that the man before him was a villain. It could have –

 _Ohshitthatwastoofast –!_

* * *

Pig God wondered if it was finally time for him to die.

Long had he pondered the date, the time, the method in which he would die during his final act of heroism.

A part of him was scared. Scared of what would happen to him when he finally left this mortal coil. Another part, bigger and more all consuming, feared for the people. For what would happen to those under his watch were he to leave his post for good.

But he knew he wouldn't have any worries. There were heroes before him and there would be heroes afterward. The world would keep on turning while his life – and his death – would mean little in the grand scheme of things. Humanity would continue on, as it always had in the past. He meant nothing.

The thought calmed him, as death approached. Pig God had no family and little he would call true friends. There would be no one to be hurt by his inevitable demise. It would be as if he had never existed in the first place.

He could feel it, the mighty winds that split apart the very heavens above. Soon he would be ripped apart, his mind and body ceasing to exist. In these precious, priceless moments, he only had a few seconds to act.

And so act he did.

* * *

Child Emperor watched in disgust from his remote terminal as Pig God ate the decayed bodies of his coworkers. Moments later his robotic decoy Dogman was destroyed by the bald villain/monster/whatever the hell he was.

He could actually _feel_ the shock waves of the blow despite being a good half a mile away. The fact that the Associations HQ was still standing – if looking ready to collapse at any moment could be considered standing – only emphasized how good Metal Knight was when it came to building fortresses.

Judging by the robot parts littered across the landscape though, he still needed to work on his robotics.

Just then the remote drone that he built to survey the situation was destroyed by the shock wave of that man/monster/ who even knew anymore's punch.

He sighed and closed his laptop. It – and by extension he – was pretty much useless at this point, considering how completely and utterly _fucked_ they all were.

Reflexively the child hero found himself wincing as the words, "I will clean your mouth out with soap young man!" echoed in his head. His mother was willing to tolerate a lot about him, but curing was something she instantly got mad at him for. And Child Emperor hated the taste of soap.

But still, he felt that his mother would forgive him for his language just this once if she were able to see what he just saw.

He, Metal Knight, and King might actually be the only living members of the S-Class. Everyone else was dead, rendered into ludicrous gibs by a single man/being who had – true to his word – beaten them in less than five minutes. Less than a _minute_ in fact, if his timer was correct.

The strongest members of the human race, all defeated at the same time by a bald man/being in an obnoxious yellow cape. If that didn't spell how fucked they all were, then he didn't know what did.

He ran a hand through his hair, forcing past the hysteria that was threatening to overwhelm his brain. This wasn't as bad as it seemed. He and Metal Knight were still alive while King was out there – somewhere. Doing _something_.

Whatever it was, it had better be _damn_ important to have caused him to miss out on the possible God level threat on their goddamn doorstep.

* * *

Several cities away, a professional gamer was having the time of his life playing a magical girl based RPG game. He pre-ordered it several months ago and after what seemed like decades of agonizing waiting, it finally arrived.

 _What a good day,_ he thought as he plugged in the controller and put on his headphones, utterly ignoring his ringing cellphone or the horrified screams that were coming from below him.

* * *

Maybe they could negotiate? The man/being had to have wanted something from the Heroes Association, right? Maybe if he waited for him to calm down, they could strike up a deal...

Or maybe he was trying to build a reputation for himself as one of the most ruthless and powerful killers in the world. Because if that was his intent, then he really succeeded.

Child Emperor shook his head and opened up his laptop. No, it was impossible to negotiate with something as destructive as the creature outside. They needed to figure out a way to kill it before it could –

Just then one of his remote drones came back online. The images on the screen were blurry and filled with static, and yet he could easily make out a lone figure running – no _riding_ towards the caped being that single handedly destroyed the Heroes Association.

Were they – were they on a _bike_?

* * *

It had taken Saitama some time to yank the unconscious forms of those weirdos from the stomach of the really fat weirdo. He could honestly say, without a shadow of a doubt, that it was the most disgusting thing he had ever done. Ever.

That – coupled with fishing out that sassy green-haired child from a collapsed building as well as gathering all those wiggling, growing zombie body parts into a single pile – pretty much drained what little remained of his anger. Now he just felt tired, kinda like how he usually felt back when he was an ordinary saleryman.

For the first time in his life, he didn't care about a sale. He just wanted to go home, crawl into bed, and forget that this nightmare of a day had _ever_ happened.

After putting all of the unconscious and – in the case of that zombie guy – dismembered bodies into a pile, he set out to do just that.

As least until he heard the words, "Justice Crash!" followed by the sensation of a bike being thrown at his back.

Saitama's eyes must have looked as dead as he felt when he turned around to see some guy wearing biker gear and goggles, standing in front of him looking ready to fight. He was panting heavily even as he brought his fists up, looking as though he would collapse at any minute.

"The Cyclist for Justice, Mumen Rider is here!"


End file.
